Despite his anger, Quirrell quickly pulled himself together like the professional undercover agent he was supposed to be, looking for an excuse for his outburst in a quiet voice.
"Sorry... I'm really tired right now. I think I'll rest for a bit." After speaking, Quirrell pulled his hood forward to cover his head and closed his eyes, taking on that weird forward-leaning position of someone trying to sleep in uncomfortable stadium seats.
"Of course, Professor," Adrian replied, immediately shutting up. He'd gotten what he wanted anyway.
He'd felt safe messing with Quirrell because he knew the guy couldn't fight back over something so small. In the original timeline, the Weasley twins had literally thrown snowballs at the back of Quirrell's head, the exact spot where Voldemort's face was hidden, and nothing happened to them.
If Quirrell wouldn't even defend Voldemort's actual face from getting pelted, it showed that getting the Philosopher's Stone was their top priority. Everything else they could put up with.
As for payback later? Adrian wasn't worried. By then, Quirrell would be nothing but ash, and Voldemort's fleeing spirit wouldn't waste time going after such a tiny slight.
Seeing that Quirrell was actually settling down for a nap, Adrian turned his attention back to the match. The game had gotten intense, with increasingly rough plays from both sides.
A Slytherin Beater pretended to go for the goal posts before deliberately smashing a Bludger right at George. Luckily, George's reflexes saved him, letting him dodge what could have been a bone-breaking hit by just inches.
"Foul! Slytherin foul!" Lee Jordan's voice boomed across the stadium with all the righteous anger of a true Gryffindor fan. His harsh commentary was so biased that Professor McGonagall could be seen wincing repeatedly in the teacher section.
George wasn't about to let the attack slide. He and Fred immediately ganged up on the Slytherin Beater who'd done it, nearly forcing him into the stadium railings with their coordinated attack.
Jordan, naturally, treated the Weasley twins' payback like it was some amazing flying display, praising their "tactical flying" with obvious admiration.
This blatant double standard set off the Slytherin fans, especially those who had money riding on the game. If the professors hadn't been watching, the stands would have exploded in a storm of hexes and curses.
Even so, Slytherin students started throwing whatever they could find at Jordan's commentary booth, cans, crumpled parchment, and what looked like someone's spare underwear sailed through the air.
"Biased commentary is messing with fair play!" someone yelled.
"This is rigged! Totally rigged!"
"We want a different commentator, or we're leaving!"
Jordan kept up his biased narration while dodging the flying objects, until Professor McGonagall finally reached her limit. She motioned for two students to physically drag Jordan from the booth and replace him with Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff as emergency commentator.
Jordan clung desperately to the booth railing, but eventually lost the fight against superior numbers. As he was dragged away, his voice could be heard echoing across the stadium:
"I've given everything for this house! Everything for Gryffindor! I'm innocent! I want to see Professor Dumbledore!"
Professor McGonagall ended his protests with a quick Silencing Charm, and blessed quiet finally returned.
Adrian, watching Jordan's dramatic removal with barely hidden amusement, wasn't particularly worried about his fellow Gryffindor's fate. After all, Jordan knew nothing about their secret betting scheme, he'd just been following his natural Gryffindor instincts to support his house with passionate enthusiasm.
The commentary drama didn't distract Adrian for long, though, because the game's outcome still depended entirely on whether Harry could catch the Golden Snitch.
And Harry was doing great. The moment he spotted the fluttering golden ball, he shot forward like an arrow, shaking off two Slytherin Chasers who tried to block him and reaching out to make the catch.
At that crucial moment, Harry's broomstick started bucking violently, like it was trying to throw him from way up high. Harry had to grip his broom with both hands just to avoid being flung into empty air.
The sudden change sent shockwaves through the crowd. The Weasley twins immediately suspected Slytherin sabotage, some student who couldn't stand to lose their bet had probably hexed the arena itself.
Both twins looked desperately toward Adrian in the stands. According to their deal, he was responsible for handling any off-field interference.
Adrian was momentarily stunned. He quickly turned toward Quirrell, who remained curled in his corner, apparently fast asleep. But Adrian's sharp eyes caught the subtle movement of lips beneath the hood, barely visible, but definitely there.
Silent casting... wandless casting...
Adrian's estimation of Quirrell's abilities immediately went way up. He hadn't expected the professor to try sabotage right under his nose, and certainly not with such advanced techniques.
While the magic itself might not be particularly high-level, the skill needed to cast silently and wandlessly was impressive. Quirrell's strength was clearly way beyond what the original books had suggested, more than enough to serve as a real Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Whether he was using Voldemort's power or his own abilities, Adrian couldn't say.
After mentally upgrading his assessment of Quirrell's skills, Adrian faced a new problem: how to "wake up" the "sleeping" professor without revealing his suspicions?
Well, if they wanted to play acting games, Adrian was more than ready to join in.
Gritting his teeth, Adrian put on his most worried expression and started shaking Quirrell's shoulders hard. "Professor Quirrell! Professor, look! Something's wrong with Harry's broom, he's about to fall! You have to help him!"
Under Adrian's enthusiastic shaking, Quirrell's hood fell back, revealing a startled face and lips that were still slightly open from his interrupted spell.
"Oh, what a shame you missed it, Professor," Adrian said quickly, taking his hands off Quirrell's shoulders as Harry regained control of his broom. "That was absolutely terrifying!"
In the stands, many others shared Adrian's apparent concern for Harry, though not all for the same reasons. Malfoy had jumped to his feet with excitement, eagerly waiting for Harry to fall from the sky.
If that happened, Adrian would have to hand over his entire fortune and spend the rest of the semester scraping by on borrowed money. For Malfoy, who felt physically outmatched by Adrian, this seemed like the perfect form of revenge.
The thought of Adrian drowning in gambling debts made Malfoy positively giddy. But just as his excitement reached its peak, Harry's broom suddenly stabilized.
Malfoy sank back into his seat, totally disappointed.
"Draco, look! Potter's falling!" Goyle shouted, pointing up. But this time it was different, Harry had been accidentally knocked from his broom by the Slytherin Seeker during an aggressive chase for the Snitch.
Malfoy jumped up again, his emotions cycling rapidly between hope and despair in just moments.
His excitement lasted exactly until Harry hit the ground, rolled, and then struggled to his feet with something glinting in his raised hand.
The Golden Snitch.
Malfoy collapsed back into his seat for the final time, the reality of his financial loss hitting him like a Stunning Spell.